Of Mice and Men
by from here to the moon
Summary: Ichigo realizes that getting rid of a mouse in his and Orihime's apartment is a lot more complicated when it involves his girlfriend. One-shot. IchiHime.


**A/N:** **I'm not sure what this is. I watched Friends and it sparked a story out of me. Hopefully you all like it because I had fun writing.**

**Please leave a review!**

**I do not own Bleach.**

_**Of Mice and Men**_

**:**

After a long and tiring day at work, Ichigo Kurosaki made his way up a flight of stairs that led him to the apartment he shared with Orihime Inoue. Vaguely, he wondered what Orihime had prepared for dinner. It had taken some time, but Ichigo had gotten used to his girlfriend's strange tastes and was surprised to find out that she was actually an excellent cook when she prepared meals normally.

Ichigo stopped at a door addressed 7-G and unlocked it with his own key.

"Hime?" he called out as he slipped out of his coat and shoes.

There was an echo of rapid footsteps and then a blur of auburn hair zoomed into Ichigo's arms. Grinning slightly, Ichigo responded by hugging Orihime tight enough to lift her off her feet.

"Welcome home," greeted Orihime warmly before properly kissing Ichigo.

Their lips moved against each other tenderly, expressing the feelings they had for one another. As Ichigo thoroughly explored Orihime's mouth, he tasted the sweet flavor of chocolate, which meant she had made some sort of desert for the two of them to enjoy.

Orihime caught her breath when Ichigo finally had his fill of her (for now). Her head tilted to the side childishly. "How was work?"

"Fine," grumbled Ichigo, his hands roaming up and down Orihime's back. "What about you?"

"Oh, well I met the most amazing old lady at the bakery," started Orihime. "She told me a story of how she met her husband—it was so _romantic,_ Ichi."

"Hmm."

"But not as romantic as _our_ love story," added Orihime, nodding her head fervently. "I think we're going to live to turn all wrinkly and grey with lots and lots of grandchildren!"

At this, Ichigo smirked. "Does that mean we're going to have lots of kids, too?"

"Yup! I'd like to have two boys who have your handsome face and a little girl with your hair color."

Ichigo's amber eyes turned dark. "Then we should probably get started on that, huh?"

"Eh?"

Ichigo made a point to slide a hand under Orihime's thigh and hitch it up around his waist, his other arm wrapping itself around Orihime's torso.

"Just so you know," he whispered hoarsely into Orihime's ear and causing her to shudder. "I want our children to look like _you_."

Orihime looped her arms around Ichigo's neck, twining her fingers with the tail of orange hair. Her smile was lovely and affectionate; Ichigo still had trouble believing such a beautiful and kind girl could be so in love with him.

Carefully, Ichigo carried Orihime to the couch where he trapped her with his much larger body. His lips ardently claimed hers, savoring the softness that only she could provide. It was strange for Ichigo to be treated so gently by someone just as gentle but he secretly didn't mind. Her little hands always caressed him and reminded Ichigo how very human he actually was.

Ichigo moved to Orihime's neck, nipping and pecking at it. He knew her crème skin bruised easily but that didn't stop him; he was pleased whenever he saw her marked as his own, that way the many lines of men following Orihime would leave her alone.

"Ichi . . . Ichigo . . . s-stop . . ."

"Not yet," growled Ichigo, nuzzling the junction where her shoulder and neck met.

"The f-food!"

Sighing, Ichigo reluctantly sat up. He watched silently as Orihime went over to the stove and checked on their meal. Hungrily, Ichigo raked her body that was clad in a tattered old T-shirt of hers and a pair of small pajama shorts that he particularly liked.

"Do you want to eat right now?" asked Orihime, already serving a plate of sticky white rice, steamed vegetables and grilled fish cutlets.

The delicious aroma filled Ichigo's nose and he obediently went over to assist Orihime. They ate together at a small kitchen table with Ichigo helping himself to seconds after he quickly gobbled his first plate down.

Ichigo happily ate the chocolate pudding desert and listened patiently as Orihime went on the ramble about her day with great detail.

The rest of their evening was relaxing. They watched television in the living room, Ichigo cradling Orihime on his lap while she leaned comfortably against him. Ichigo went ahead and sat through Laugh Hour for Orihime, amused by her reactions.

Once in the bedroom, Ichigo wasted no time pouncing on Orihime. Her clothes were quickly discarded as he ravaged her body. He met no protest from Orihime who worked expertly on his pants.

Soon they were lost in one another, exchanging kisses and tongues and touches. Ichigo strained to be soft with Orihime, he wanted to treat her with reverence but it was difficult for him since everything about Orihime—her eyes, her hair, her legs, her chest—lured him in, baiting him until he lost almost all his self-control

It was Orihime's voice that kept Ichigo from losing his mind. She would pant his name, whisper and murmur "I love you's" and most importantly, reassure him that everything was fine, that she wanted him to hold her tighter, to keep going,

"You so fucking beautiful," grunted Ichigo, devouring Orihime's mouth.

Orihime gasped underneath Ichigo, writhing and clinging onto him with her long legs. Her breathing was becoming uneven as Ichigo demanded for more, deepening and hardening his kisses.

Ichigo wasn't great at talking despite the fact that he was journalist, but with Orihime he made sure to tell her how he much loved, cherished and adored her through his actions.

She seemed to understand perfectly, touching his cheek and murmuring, "I love you, too."

Ichigo proceeded to show his love for Orihime, watching with pride as she came apart underneath him.

It wouldn't be long until Ichigo finally asked for her hand and made sure to never leave her side.

**:**

Morning arrived with strips of sunlight creeping its way through white flowing curtains. Buried together in a tangle of sheets were Ichigo and Orihime. While Orihime was sound asleep and snoring slightly, Ichigo was propped on an elbow, admiring her curled up figure.

His nimble fingers traced Orihime's spine languidly. Ichigo never seemed to tire from memorizing every little detail about Orihime, from the way her sooty eyelashes brushed against her cheek to the curve of her lips.

There was something very innocent in the way Orihime slept that reminded Ichigo of a child. He was very well aware that her body was pure woman (no one knew that better than him) but she seemed to crave his nearness, instinctively scooting to his chest in the middle of night.

Orihime began to stir, her nose scrunching up and her eyes lazily opening. Her expression was still dreamy when she said, "Good morning, Ichigo."

Chastely, Ichigo gave her a peck on the lips. "Morning."

Orihime sat up and stretched with a yawn. As she knotted her long hair up in a messy bun Ichigo spotted numerous bite marks adorning her neck and chest.

Ichigo reached over to brush his thumb over a particularly large bruise near her breast. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I got a little carried away, didn't I?"

Orihime blinked, barely noticing what Ichigo was talking about. "O-Oh. . ." She smiled softly after a moment. "It's okay."

Ichigo stared openly, making a flush of color to grow on Orihime's face.

"W-What?" she stammered.

Smirking wickedly, Ichigo said, "You were very beautiful last night."

Orihime bypassed pink and turned red. "I-Ichigo!"

"What? It's true. There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Orihime made a move to get out of bed. "I-I should go make breakfast. . ."

A strong hand held her in place. Ichigo shook his head. "You stay put and I'll cook."

"You don't have to—I can—"

"I know you can," said Ichigo, getting up and slipping into a pair of jeans, "but I don't want you to."

"But Ichigo—"

"Don't worry, Hime. I promise not to burn the place down."

"A-Ah! I didn't mean—"

Ichigo leaned over and greedily stole a kiss. "I want to cook for you, Hime. So just stay put and let me."

"O-Okay. . . ."

Ichigo strolled into the kitchen, debating on what to make. He contemplated making Orihime chocolate chip pancakes, wondering if it would make her more energetic than usual. With a shrug, Ichigo went ahead and searched through the cupboards to find a box of pancake mix.

After rummaging around, Ichigo found the little blue box and went to grab it. He faltered as he saw something rustle behind it and—

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

Orihime tumbled out of the bedroom and raced to the kitchen, eyes wide. "Ichigo, what's wrong? Why did you scream?"

Ichigo turned to Orihime who was drowning in his button up shirt. "I did not _scream_," he corrected, "I _yelled_."

Anxiously, Orihime glanced around. "Why did you yell?"

"Orihime," started Ichigo, his brows furrowing together into a tight-knitted line and the corners of his mouth tugging downward, "there's a mouse in the cupboard."

Orhime blinked. "And?"

Ichigo was worried about Orihime's lack of a response. "And we have to get rid of it."

Orihime went forward and checked for herself, tip-toeing to peek into the cupboard. "Oh!" she squealed loudly. "This is Masaya."

Ichigo's jaw dropped. "You named it?"

Orihime nodded blatantly. "Yeah!"

"Hime," said Ichigo slowly, "He's a _mouse_."

"I know," she said a matter-a-factly, "he's very sweet, Ichi. You'd like him."

Doubting that, Ichigo went on to say, "Well, the mouse—"

"Masaya, Ichigo, _Masaya_."

Ichigo's frown deepened. "We can't keep Masaya, Orihime."

Orihime stared at Ichigo as though she didn't quite hear him right. "W-What do you mean we can't keep him?"

"We can't have a mouse in our apartment."

When Orihime's bottom lip began to tremble and Ichigo felt his resole weakening in an uncharacteristic quick pace. "B-But what about Masaya's family?"

"Family?"

"His wife Hana and children Akira, Ryou, Mayu—"

Mouth dry, Ichigo asked, "There's more?"

Orihime smiled widely, blinding Ichigo. "Of course!"

Ichigo was certain that getting rid of the mice would be more challenging than he expected; things were never simple when it involved Orihime.

**:**

When Orihime left in the morning for her shift at the bakery, Ichigo took the intuitive and bought mouse traps from the nearby superstore. Setting them intricately around the apartment, Ichigo was determined to get each of the mice.

He loved Orihime but he figured it would be best to deal with the problem while she wasn't around. Somehow he knew she'd win and the mice would manage to stay alive and enjoy the comforts of the apartment.

"_Masaya_," snickered Ichigo with a snort when he finished up.

Then Ichigo froze, he heard someone shimmy the doorknob open and then Orihime entered, carrying what looked like take-out.

"I brought us lunch, Ichigo," proclaimed Orihime in a sing-song voice. "I hope you in the mood for—"

Orihime stopped dead when she saw the opened packages of mouse traps on the kitchen counter. Her already large eyes grew wider and then she squeaked in horror. "Ichigo!" exclaimed Orihime. "You want to _k-k-kill _Masaya and his family?"

Awkwardly, Ichigo scratched the back of his head; he didn't want to lie but he didn't want to tell the truth either. "Uh—well—"

Orihime's eyes began to fill up with unshed tears. "When you said you were going to get rid of Masaya and his family I thought you meant you were going to capture them and release them into the wild where they'd meet a wisecracking owl and a sneaky ferret and have all these fun adventures!"

Ichigo swallowed audibly. "Er—we can do that, Hime. I'll return the traps and we'll do it your way—"

Orihime knocked the wind out of Ichigo as she threw herself at him in a hug. "Oh, thank you! Thank you, Ichigo!"

Ichigo could have sworn he saw Masaya appear from the cabinet and lean back on his hind-legs to stick his twitchy nose up in triumph.

**:**

Ichigo parked his car on the side of a lonely dirt road near a field of wild grass. Beside him cradling a shoe box with miniature holes punched into it was Orihime.

"Do we have to let them go?" asked Orihime while looking outside warily. "Can't we keep them?"

"Hime, we can't," said Ichigo. "They're _mice_. They breed like—well, like mice."

Orihime slid the lid of the box to the side. "But they're family, they wouldn't—Eeek! Ryou, get off your sister!"

Ichigo hid his laughter by coughing loudly. "See? We need to set them free."

Crestfallen, Orihime's shoulders slumped. "You're right. I'm sorry, Ichigo. I'm acting really silly, aren't I?"

Ichigo wrapped an arm around Orihime, consolingly rubbing her shoulder. "No, I think you're really sweet."

Orihime took a deep breathe. "Okay, I think I'm ready."

Ichigo kept an arm at Orihime's waist as they ventured out into the field. His lips quirked into a smile while listening to Orihime animatedly chat with the family of mice.

"—you be careful now, Mayu. Don't stray too far from home or else a giant hawk might sweep down and have you for lunch! Oh, and take care of Ryou, Akira. He tends to get himself into trouble. . . ."

After a moment, Orihime kneeled down and gently tipped the shoe box against the ground. At first, the mice hesitated but then after sniffing the air they broke into a scamper off into the field.

Sadly, Orihime waved goodbye. "I'm really going to miss them."

_I'm not_, thought Ichigo.

"Ichigo?" called Orihime.

"Yeah?"

Orihime tucked herself into his side. "Thank you."

Ichigo pulled her closer. "Anytime, Hime."

**:**

The next day, Ichigo went into the broom closet looking for his shoes. "Are you sure you saw them in here, Orihime?"

"Yeah!"

Ichigo angrily kicked aside a mop bucket. Something black and lumpy rolled out and happened to have legs.

"—THE HELL! _RATS_?"

"Oooo, I think you just met Zakuro!"

**:**

_**Fin.**_


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